Break Open
“Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my neck.
I sink in the miry depths, where there is no foothold.
I have come into the deep waters; the floods engulf me.
I am worn out calling for help, my throat is parched.
My eyes fail, looking for my God.”
No, I did not write this. Neither did you. However, we both could have.
The sentiment of a child, engulfed in deep pain and anguish. The raw and overtly real plea of one who has suffered too much. Word pictures that actually feel authentic, poetry that is tangible.
There is the sensation of the salty, cold spray that smacks us as the hurricane churls. The deafening sound of the rolling waves leaves us choking on water and gasping for air simultaneously. Our body consumed by the depths and yet not conquered. Our minds spiraling and yet cognizant.
We have all been here. The place where there is no mountain to climb, there is no rescue boat to arrive, and there is no roadmap out. As we search for relief and escape, we disappointedly find broken shards. Broken pieces of broken me and broken you.
Then there is a deep desire to be “not broken.” To not be lost or consumed. A guttural prayer to be heard, to be seen, to be saved. The hope that a hand will reach down and pull us up. The belief that where we are is neither permanent nor the final destination. We covet the fresh breath, the natural spring of water, the solid ground beneath our feet. We crave the deliverance and so desperately want to celebrate the rescue.
Maybe there is another option. Maybe there is more than being well or being broken.
“Breaking apart” is hard. Piece by piece. Shard by shard. It can be slow and grinding, like the unraveling of a sweater or the slow decay of rusted metal. It can also be fast and explosive, like the shattering of glass. Either way, we are left to hold remnants of what was.
“Breaking open” implies life. Odd, but true. Hard, but healing. The seedling breaks open to reveal the sapling. The acorn breaks open to share the seeds. The eggs break and hatch new, curious life. The cocoon is split and an independent butterfly breaks out. The broken pinata is much more enjoyable, the broken glow stick reveals the magic, and the breaking of a new day whispers new hope.
What if this is the third option? What if my breaking was more about my opening?
What if I permitted myself to be present in the waves and attuned my soul to be aware of His presence?
Even in the flood, there He is. Even in the mire, there He is. Even in my breaking, there He is. Even when my eyes fail in looking for Him, there He is.
There He is and here am I. Breaking open. Finding life in places where there is loss. Finding value where there is pain. Finding hope even when outcomes are unfavorable. Finding Him even when I am not looking.
“The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all.” Psalm 34:19 (NIV)
“Many troubles” jumps off the page and brings with it great despair. We know we do not journey through this land without scrapes and scars but we somehow neglect to remember that we also do not journey this land without the option of salvation and security. The “many troubles” is not the primary point or the end of the statement. The conjunction “but” showcases that something greater, more profound is available = “the Lord delivers him from them all.”
Deliverance sounds exhilarating, but it is not always pleasant. Every mother knows the delivery of the miracle is a hard and exhausting path. Deliverance from pain and certain ailments often occurs through risky surgery. Delivery from a threatening addiction is coupled with angst and fear. The very definition of deliverance is: to be set free, to come through. As we know, deliverance from the trouble is often through the journey, through the pain, through the lesson, through the storm to the other side of freedom.
If we hold on through the breaking open, we see an aftermath that delivers a second chance, a blessed miracle, and newfound hope.
The psalmist, David, wrote the opening words (found in Psalm 69). He felt the devastation of troubles and the challenges of being broken open. He also understood that he was not broken; rather, he was called by God to walk a hard path that would glorify Him. We are similar - we may be facing a storm, but the storm does not define us. We may be breaking open, but that doesn’t mean we are broken. We, too, are called by God to walk a hard path that will glorify Him.
But as for me, afflicted and in pain— may your salvation, God, protect me. I will praise God’s name in song and glorify him with thanksgiving… Let heaven and earth praise him, the seas and all that move in them…
In the opening, we still struggle. We will be afflicted and in pain. We will be parched and desperate. We will still feel burdened. Yet, breaking open will usher in life-giving growth. The very seas that we struggle in will be moved through our praise. The pressing and crushing will produce the sweetest juice. The burning embers will snap open the acorn and release new chances. The salvation of God will be our song and our deliverance.
Breaking open just might be the better option during the storm.
Verses used: Psalm 69:1-3, 30 & 34 (NIV)
Until next time friend,
